” . . . difficulties are magnified out of all proportion simply by fear and anxiety. From the moment we wake until we fall asleep we must commend other people wholly and unreservedly to God and leave them in his hands, and transform our anxiety for them into prayers on their behalf: With sorry and with grief . . . God will not be distracted.” (Dietrich Bonhoeffer in Letters from Prison)
Simple, wonderful advice on prayer from Jean-Pierre de Caussade:
I have only two things to say on the subject of prayer:
Make it with absolute compliance with the will of God, no matter whether it be successful, or you are troubled with dryness, distractions, or other obstacles.
If it is easy and full of consolations, return thanks to God without dwelling on the pleasure it has caused you.
If it has not succeeded, submit to God, humbling yourself, and go away contented and in peace even if it should have failed through your own fault; redoubling your confidence and resignation to his holy will.
Persevere in this way and sooner or later God will give you grace to pray properly.
But whatever trials you may have to endure, never allow yourselves to be discouraged.
A Sunday poem from Christina Rossetti:
A Better Resurrection
I have no wit, no words, no tears;
My heart within me like a stone
Is numbed too much for hopes or fears.
Look right, look left, I dwell alone;
I lift mine eyes, but dimmed with grief
No everlasting hills I see;
My life is in the falling leaf:
O Jesus, quicken me.
My life is like a faded leaf,
My harvest dwindled to a husk:
Truly my life is void and brief
And tedious in the barren dusk;
My life is like a frozen thing,
No bud nor greenness can I see:
Yet rise it shall–the sap of spring;
O Jesus, rise in me.
My life is like a broken bowl,
A broken bowl that cannot hold
One drop of water for my soul
Or cordial in the searching cold;
Cast in the fire the perished thing;
Melt and remould it, till it be
A royal cup for Him, my King:
O Jesus, drink of me.
From Cardinal Dolan a few minutes ago:
“A big chunk of my morning prayer are the words of St Peter. Prayers like ‘Lord, it’s good to be here’ and ‘Save me Lord, I’m drowning!'”
“When you are praying alone, and your spirit is dejected, and you are wearied and oppressed by your loneliness, remember then, as always, that God the Trinity looks upon you with eyes brighter than the sun.” (St. John of Kronstadt)
In his weekly audience last week, Pope Benedict spoke some very encouraging words to those of us who struggle in prayer:
In the Letter to the Romans [Paul] writes: “Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with sighs too deep for words” (8:26). And we know how true the Apostle’s saying is: “We do not know how to pray as we ought”. We want to pray, but God is far off, we do not have the words, the language, to speak with God, nor even the thought to do so. We can only open ourselves, place our time at God’s disposition, wait for Him to help us to enter into true dialogue. The Apostle says: this very lack of words, this absence of words, yet this desire to enter into contact with God, is prayer that the Holy Spirit not only understands, but brings and interprets before God. This very weakness of ours becomes — through the Holy Spirit — true prayer, true contact with God. The Holy Spirit is, as it were, the interpreter who makes us, and God, understand what it is we wish to say.
In prayer we experience — more than in other aspects of life — our weakness, our poverty, our being creatures, for we are placed before the omnipotence and transcendence of God. And the more we advance in listening and in dialogue with God, so that prayer becomes the daily breath of our souls, the more we also perceive the measure of our limitations, not only in the face of the concrete situations of everyday life, but also in our relationship with the Lord. The need to trust, to rely increasingly upon Him then grows in us; we come to understand that “we do not know … how to pray as we ought” (Romans 8:26).
And it is the Holy Spirit who helps our inability, who enlightens our minds and warms our hearts, guiding us as we turn to God. For St. Paul, prayer is above all the work of the Holy Spirit in our humanity, to take our weakness and to transform us from men bound to material realities into spiritual men. In the First Letter to the Corinthians he says: “Now we have received not the spirit of the world, but the Spirit which is from God, that we might understand the gifts bestowed on us by God. And we impart this in words not taught by human wisdom but taught by the Spirit, interpreting spiritual truths in spiritual terms” (2:12-13). By means of His abiding in our fragile humanity, the Holy Spirit changes us; He intercedes for us; He leads us toward the heights of God (cf. Romans 8:26).
You can read his whole address here.
A short but to the point post by Ann Voskamp that speaks to those of us who can be too busy to pray: When You Need to Quietly Reflect. (I especially like the Corrie ten Boom quote. . . .)
From my friend, Amy Carmichael–before we get too busy for this day:
Mark 6.39 And He commanded them to make all sit down by companies upon the green grass.
Psalm 23.2 He makes me lie down in green pastures.
Those who do most in the day and who always have time for one thing more are those who know what it is to sit down on the green grass. It is not the bustling, chattery people who do most for others. It is those who know most of the quietness.
Before our Lord Jesus could feed the people, He had to make them sit down. Before He can feed us we too must sit down. David sat before the Lord; he was quiet before his God. Even if we have not a long time to spend in the morning with our God, much can be received in a very few minutes if only we are quiet. Sometimes it takes a little while to gather our scattered thoughts and quiet our soul. Even so, don’t hurry; make it sit down on the green grass.
Gather my thoughts, good Lord, they fitful roam,
Like children bent on foolish wandering,
Or vanity of fruitless wayfaring;
O call them home.
And a little bit more from Peter Kreeft’s book, before I go:
97. The Burning I
Prayer is not only conversation, it is transformation. It is not only light, it is fire. And the closer you get to Him, the hotter the fire gets. Words begin to melt. The first word that melts in His presence is the word “I”. That is His unique name. The closer you get to Him, the harder it is to begin a sentence with “I”. It melts in the fire of “thou.”
104. How to Be Wiser, Happier, and Better in Seven Minutes
If you’re not interested in these three products, don’t read this. If you are in the market for them but skeptical about getting them in seven minutes, read on.
The answer is three words: count your blessings. It’s so simple it’s embarrassing.
I mean this literally. Just thank God for seven specific blessings. Don’t ask Him for anything, just thank Him.
If you want a structure, here is one: tell God you are grateful for the following seven specific things. (They can be small things; small things are best because we don’t usually notice them.)
- one specific, concrete thing in the world
- one specific, concrete thing in your life
- one specific event in the world
- one specific event in your life
- one specific person in the world
- one specific person in your life
- one attribute, aspect, or deed of God himself
Results guaranteed.
Today’s Sunday-poem is by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow:
Divina Commedia (1) Oft have I seen at some cathedral door A laborer, pausing in the dust and heat, Lay down his burden, and with reverent feet Enter, and cross himself, and on the floor Kneel to repeat his paternoster o'er; Far off the noises of the world retreat; The loud vociferations of the street Become an undistinguishable roar. So, as I enter here from day to day, And leave my burden at this minster gate, Kneeling in prayer, and not ashamed to pray, The tumult of the time disconsolate To inarticulate murmurs dies away, While the eternal ages watch and wait.
Witnesses to Hope 